On writing: poetry and prose

The Little People Did It

I have a ring given to me by my spouse when we were first together. In general, it never leaves my finger, which is why I was surprised and distressed to discover it missing some months ago. It vanished overnight. I went to bed with it on, and woke up to find it missing. Did I remove it somehow in my sleep? I don’t know.

I searched everywhere for it, but, alas, it was gone.

A couple of days ago I returned to my room to discover the ring, lying in a pool of cracker crumbs, in the middle of my bed. Again, it wasn’t there when I left, but when I returned, there it was.

It’s back on my finger. I have no explanation for how it got onto my bed — other than: